


Dick or Treat

by ultimateparadox



Series: Rosebush [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Banter, Biting, Blood, Competition, Halloween, M/M, Public Sex, Rimming, Vampires, light humor, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 06:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21050165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultimateparadox/pseuds/ultimateparadox
Summary: Actual vampire Keith gets thirsty at a 21+ Halloween Party and finds the one sucker dumb enough to approach.





	Dick or Treat

"Wow, where'd you get those?"

Keith tore his eyes away from the bright red of the punch bowl. It was for the better, because no matter how hard he tried, the overwhelming scents of sugar and vodka were impossible hurdles in convincing himself it was blood. In maybe an hour or so he could possibly grab a snack with one of the party goers, maybe even get a bit of a buzz out of it.

"Excuse me?" He asked the stranger. Eyeing him up, he didn't seem like much: a long pole of a man, chocolate hair and tan skin hidden beneath a classical, caped Bela Lugosi-style vampire costume, all black and red with a white, antiquated dress shirt with sleeves that were more puff than fabric. If the clothing were of better quality he'd almost look authentic. Hard, plastic fangs poked out to pull at his bottom lip like Keith's were pulling at his own, blue eyes staring at them curiously. He hadn't even noticed they'd slid out, so maybe the mental gymnastics around the punch had done something. Maybe he was just hungry.

"The teeth, man," Bela Lugosi explained, pointing at the cheap plastic in his mouth. "Those are awesome, where'd you find them?"

Halloween really was such a bizarre night. "Party City."

The man looked momentarily stunned, eyes widening. "Are you for real? They look way more realistic than the ones I found."

Keith shrugged. "Maybe they just ran out by the time you checked."

There was a great, unhappy sigh. "The cool fangs get wasted on the guy who goes to Halloween parties in a red turtleneck and black skinny jeans. There's a hole in your left shin, by the way."

Irritation boiled his cold blood. This literal-punch drunk insult to his species had the audacity to get catty. Humanity continued to prove it was the stubbed toe of the universe. "Bite me," Keith challenged with a snap of his very real, very sharp, very functional teeth. 

Like New England weather, the stranger's mood seemed to change on a whim. Immediately his unimpressed expression was washed away by a flirtatious smirk and raised eyebrows. His eyes hovered of Keith, the universal head-to-toe. "Is that a request?"

Face blank, Keith took a closer, more considering look at him. At first he was only hiding his incredulous reaction to the human's mind-numbing audacity, but he was, Keith supposed, attractive enough. If the flighty little thing wanted to flirt with a real vampire, then Keith could throw him a bone. Maybe he'd be cheeky, wait until all the blood ran south, and drain him like a freeze pop. Standards be damned for both of them, Keith could blow a college student at a party.

He leaned in close to quietly indulge, "Show me what you got, Drac." His cologne smelled like roses.

Warm fingers slid around his hip and gently guided him from the punch table. "Dracula is my father. Please, call me Lance."

Lame. Keith laughed anyway. "Well, Lance. I'm Keith, just your neighborhood vampire. Can't claim any Transylvanian lineage. It's why I go to parties in turtlenecks and jeans."

"Of course," he agreed amicably. "Just your average vamp next door."

The Halloween party was located in a rented out community center show room just a block away from the local college's campus. It was technically open to all the town's adult residents, but Keith knew that the attendees were overwhelmingly students well-prepared to rage their way through the holiday. As soon as they left the party behind to the carpeted hallway, the world's cacophony muffled as the doors quieted the DJ's crushing bass. With a nod of his head, Keith indicated the softly lit sign to the restrooms, pleased when Lance didn't hesitate to walk them over. 

The ballroom had been dim with festive lights to provide atmosphere, the hallways' strip lights only half lit, so in comparison the restroom lights were blinding. Keith wasn't blind enough not to notice Lance leading them to the handicap stall, which Keith swiftly corrected. He was a monster, true, but not a Monster. 

As soon as he slid the lock home in the (standard) stall, he turned and shoved Lance onto the closed toilet seat. "Trick or treat, Lance?"

Hands wandered to the cheap zipper on Lance's costume slacks, but they stopped suddenly when Lance made some half-choked, negative sound.. "Okay, hold on," Lance said firmly, but when Keith met his gaze he didn't seem angry. "Last time someone asked me that the trick was being handcuffed to a tree and robbed, so it's kinda unsexy."

Keith could hear the blood in Lance's veins and the thumping beat of his heart. He wondered if he told Lance about it if he would find that “unsexy”, too. 

"Besides," Lance purred, coquettish mood returning like high tide. "I think I was asked to do a little biting?" He rose from the toilet with more finesse than a restroom hook-up entitled and cupped Keith's cheek with one hand, tilting his head. It was strange to be on the receiving end of that motion.

For a whole century, Keith was renowned in vampiric circles for his stubbornness. In the past, it was about hunting a specific target, but tonight it meant Keith wasn't going to run from the game presented. "Well, then. Mark me up."

Lance pushed him against the door with surprising, tantalizing force, tugged the high collar of his turtleneck down, and leaned in with no hesitation. It was mostly lip at first, a gentle suction with a hint of teeth and plastic that dragged lightly on his skin. No one had touched his neck since further than Keith could remember, leaving him shocked at his own sensitivity and responsiveness when he couldn't hold back the not-quite-moan. It wasn't unpleasant, so he clamped his mouth shut and leaned his head back into the door.

Soft lips scaled and stamped his neck until just below his ear when he felt pinpricks poke at him. He hummed and grinned when the pressure increased, a teasing pinch of pain radiating gentle waves of good down to his cock. It was a slower build up than Keith was used to when it came to gratification, but it was certainly a rare treat.

"Is that all you've got for me?" He murmured. There was a pause before Lance bit harder, the plastic teeth pressing sharp into his tender neck along with dull, flat incisors. 

A tiny click was as ominous as glass shattering in their silence. Abruptly, Lance pulled away, scowling, before pinching out one of his fangs. "The glue popped." Keith couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up in his throat. Half a second passed before Lance was joining him, chuckling into his front. When the spell lifted, he pulled out his remaining fang and tucked them into the breast pocket of his faux-silk vest. "Let's try that one more time." 

Heat descended on his neck again with the wet sensation of Lance's tongue. Mimicking its rise up the column of his throat, long fingers wormed under the loose hem of Keith's turtleneck to palm up his ribs. The necking and petting continued, lazy, for some time until Keith remembered that this was meant to be fast and dirty, bucking his hips assertively to Lance's.

Intent recognized, Lance immediately dropped his fingers to pop the button of Keith's jeans and pulled the zipper, coaxing the black denim and boxers off his hips. 

"Do you have anything for prep?" Keith asked, stepping out of his jeans. It wouldn't feel fantastic if, in their spur of the moment decision making, they had to go dry, but it would be something he could heal and it would feel good eventually.

He felt the frown in the junction of his neck and shoulder. Lance began to pat himself down. "I have a condom in my wallet, but…nothing that really makes it easier on us. Should we not?” He actually sounded genuinely remorseful. It was cute. 

He hoped that good-boy attitude wouldn't stop him from getting fucked. They went this far and Keith actually got worked up. Worst case scenario, he could return the bite, pump him full with enough venom that he'd just get off and forget in a seemingly drunken stupor, and both of them could move on. He wasn't a quitter, though, and he'd show Lance the tenacity of his lust.

Keith brought his fingers to his mouth, caught Lance's eye, and closed his lips around them with a loud suck. Lance's jaw dropped a little, but then his expression shifted to something hot: the acknowledgment that this wasn't over and the determination to see it through.

"I've got a better idea," he declared as his only warning, hands already pushing at his hips in suggestion. "Gonna need you to turn around." 

Spun around to press his hands on the door, Keith was not surprised to feel long fingers pushing his cheeks apart. That tantalizing tongue returned to press against his hole and Keith released a shuttering breath. He hadn't even heard Lance go to his knees.

"This okay?" Lance murmured into his ass and Keith bit back more laughter. They were finally getting to the good stuff. He couldn't afford to ruin it.

"Keep going." Lance kept the pressure on with purposeful licks until Keith relaxed into the sensation, after which he felt that tongue press inside. "Talented," he said as he pressed his hips back. Lance stabbed his tongue in sharply in response before he continued to gently open him up. 

Keith had lived several of this single human's lifetimes, had fed and fucked and cared and hated probably more times than Lance could ever hope to guess. Vampirism was at its core a long, lonely existence full of fleeting encounters that snuffed out like the flames of candles. Desperation to feel usually drove his encounters with the living and painted them with the same brush. This slow stop-and-go with Lance was refreshingly unhurried, reminding him of gentle touches that could scorch deeper into his bones than the flash fires he was used to. 

After a time, Lance withdrew his tongue. "Guess we're not the best at quickies."

"That's just you," Keith gasped, feeling the loss of that wriggling tongue like a punch to the solar plexus. His dick was at attention and it disapproved of the withdrawal. "I don't mind, suddenly. Lost my ability to care at some point in the ass eating."

"So was it good?" Lance asked with delight. Keith huffed, but choked on it as Lance wormed a finger into his ass. It rubbed inside with small motions, as leisurely as he took everything else. "I don't like to disappoint."

"Don't fish," he mumbled in his arm as Lance sussed out the stretch. One finger became two, two gradually became three before he felt a satisfying burn. He felt them spread and curl, little starbursts of pleasure sparking off his insides. "_Yes_…just a little more."

"You know, for how cold you are, you're pretty warm in here." Keith responded by incompetently trying to kick back at Lance. He laughed.

Before long, Keith felt his asshole become abandoned again. There was fumbling Keith didn't bother looking over his shoulder for, a zip, a tear, and a sudden rush of blood in Lance's veins. Keith could smell the latex of the condom under Lance's rosy scent and the heady odor of sweating bodies and sex. "Fucking finally," he cheered.

"Mouthy. Maybe I should stick it there instead, huh?"

"I'll bite," Keith replied instantly. He supposed it sounded like a threat, but he meant it more as a warning. He was hungry for more than just cock at this point and having a blood-engorged organ anywhere near his teeth was asking for it.

Thankfully, Lance wasn't bothered. "Alright, you eager beaver. But first, how about we…hup!"

Firm hands spun Keith around again. Finding his thighs, they lifted him to drag his back up the door. Keith braced himself with a tight grip on Lance's shoulder with one hand, the other reaching up to grab the coat hanger nailed to the door to prevent himself from braining himself on it.

The press of Lance's cock at his hole arrived while Keith was still processing the change in position, but when his brain caught up he felt ravenous. In a way, bloodthirst and lust were similar in that once the craving hit he would be on the hunt until he got his fill. His fangs burned.

Then, it didn't matter. Lance pushed, that same patiently slow energy permeating their entire encounter sending Keith's blood boiling with wild desire. He let go of Lance's shoulder to reach for the base of his skull and pull his face close enough that Keith could press the smooth sides of his fangs to Lance's lips. "S'good. You can do better."

Those lips pulled and dragged against his teeth when Lance smirked confidently. "Just a moment, Fangs," like people hadn't been telling Keith to be patient for a hundred years. If he wanted him to wait just a minute longer Keith would put him back on the toilet and go for a ride Lance would never forget.

He slid home, drawing the first real moan from Keith's throat. He paused, smiled more boyishly against Keith's mouth, and pulled out enough to follow through with his first thrust.

Keith had seen night skies before cities and their light pollution drowned them out, wide expanses of stars dotting velvet black that made him feel enveloped comfortably by the dark. He had no idea he'd been so starved for touch of any kind until tonight, and Lance's ardent thrusts brought those stars back to him. Little noises punched out of him and Lance drank them up.

An irreverent, curious hand lifted from his thigh and Keith clenched his legs tighter around Lance's hips to keep himself off the ground and on that dick. The fingers wandered back to the bottom of his turtleneck, ran tauntingly just inside to touch the sensitive skin of his stomach. They hooked on the fabric and pulled up until Lance's thumb could pass over his nipple and send little flames of heat scorching to his crotch. Keith grunted and Lance did it again on one of his inward thrusts to hear it turn into a throaty growl. 

Keith's legs began to slip and Lance's human stamina was being tested by the unexpected density of vampire muscle. "Toilet, toilet," he instructed. "Sit down."

Lance hauled them both over to sit heavily on the toilet seat, letting Keith's legs glide into a less restrictive position. Impatience marked Keith's long life and hadn't killed him yet, so he immediately began rocking in his lap with sharp rolls of his hips before Lance could regain control. Judging by the eagerness in the hands situated like small vices on his hips, he wasn't vying for it.

The foretold quickie finally began to resemble its name with Keith at the helm, the swell of feeling building up wave after wave with no chance to recover. His orgasm encroached on him, molten, held back only by the fact he didn't want to come before a human. It was to his misfortune that Lance didn't seem to want come first, either. Their eyes met and if Keith wasn't so turned on he'd have been a little cowed by the fiery mischief in those depths. 

"Whatever you're thinking about, you better n-_ungh_…" Those delightful nipple-rubbing, ass-banging fingers wrapped around his cock confidently. No teasing followed, just the heated slide of Lance's palm on his weeping dick, up and down in a motion to drive a man to madness, and the pounding slam of their joining. "You motherfucker."

"Always gotta be a challenge with you, huh?" Lance said with a hard thrust upward that jolted Keith's rhythm and made him feel like his brain had melted into primal, horny sludge. He felt it like a compass pulled to the North, the instinct to bite flaring up as the pleasure built with every touch and movement. The percussion of Lance's heartbeat was a siren's song. Like the foolish sailors at sea, Keith followed the enchantment.

His lips latched onto Lance's neck like a kiss before he bit down. The rush of blood filled his mouth and Keith was coming in the tidal wave of satisfaction that flooded him. Ecstasy filled his veins instead of blood before his mind blinked back awake, bringing awareness with it. His hips were still stuttering minutely in Lance's lap, a mess with cum. Lance had stilled, free arm embracing Keith close, and he wondered if he'd actually used too much venom when his instinct took over. Before he could ask if he was feeling well (or feeling good), something sharp pressed just his shoulder blade.

Keith's eyes darted to Lance's face. The charming loudmouth's cheeky expression was gone, but unlike the blissful, dazed look of sex and venom he had expected in its place, he was alarmingly alert, smirking, and dangerous. "You bloodsuckers are so easy." He pressed the point of a rosewood stake, hidden in his shitty dress shirt sleeve, a little harder.

A hunter, of course. Always a challenge, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> I have more ideas for this. I don't know how long it'll take to get it all together into something cohesive, but I'm workin' on it. Happy Halloween 2019!


End file.
